


Dance, Dance (so good)

by kopycat_101



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adorable Marc Anciel, Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Kissing, Awkward Romance, Awkward Tension, Banter, Bisexual Disaster Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Bisexual Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Boys In Love, Canon Jewish Character, Cute, Cute Ending, Dancing, Dancing Lessons, Don't worry the angst isn't there for long!, Dorks in Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gay Disaster Marc Anciel, Gay Marc Anciel, Gay Panic, Getting Together, I would tag Lila but she's literally only mentioned in 1 paragraph and never appears so, It's still a very fluffy story!!, Love Confessions, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Middle School, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Minor Chloé Bourgeois/Sabrina Raincomprix, Minor Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle, Mutual Pining, Nathaniel Kurtzberg Has ADHD, Nathaniel and Alix are Childhood Best Friends, Pining, School Dances, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Slash, Slow Dancing, Teen Angst, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Teenagers, The entire class is here in cameos, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wingman Alix Kubdel, Wingman Marinette Dupain-Cheng, miracuclass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25229875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopycat_101/pseuds/kopycat_101
Summary: Dupont has an end-of-year dance. Because Alix is a terrible, awful best friend, she starts a dancing competition, drags Nathaniel into it, and then literally throws Marc at him.Somehow, it doesn’t end up in disaster.In fact, Nathaniel may finally get a boyfriend out of the entire fiasco.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Nino Lahiffe, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Kagami Tsurugi, Alix Kubdel & Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Juleka Couffaine & Nathaniel Kurtzberg & Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Marc Anciel & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Max Kanté & Alix Kubdel & Lê Chiến Kim, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69
Collections: MarcNath Fics!





	Dance, Dance (so good)

**Author's Note:**

> TFW you name your fic after a Fall Out Boy song like it’s the peak of 2007...
> 
> This fic started out as a fun little idea that I thought would be 3k at the most, and here we are. At almost 7k. I'm not even surprised at this point--
> 
> I've linked some dance videos in this fic as well, for visual reference. All links to those can also be found at the bottom notes.
> 
> Lyrics from Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy and Dance So Good by Wakey!Wakey!

* * *

_“Dance, dance,_

_We’re falling apart to half time.”_

* * *

Nathaniel isn’t one for big social events, but the end-of-the-year dance seems to have everyone super excited and super invested.

Nathaniel…doesn’t have a date for it. It’d be nice, of course, but he doesn’t. He’s fine with it, he tells himself, even though he’d really like to go with—

But that would take Nathaniel actually drum up his courage to _ask_ , and he’s too chicken-shit for that.

Besides, Alix and him are going together as friends, and they’re meeting up as a group with their other friends. Dates don’t really matter if they’re all going to hang out and have a good time _anyways_. Even if having a date with a certain someone would be nice…

* * *

Everyone makes a big deal about what they’re going to wear, in the time before the actual dance. Alix and Nathaniel, never having been fashionable in the first place, just decide to wing it on the day of.

Alix doesn’t bother with a dress for the occasion, instead opting for pants with suspenders and a semi-formal shirt. Nathaniel decides on something simple, a button-down with slacks and one of his usual sports jackets—almost wanting to abandon his jacket right away with how warm it is when they step inside the Bourgeois hotel.

Of course, Chloe is quick to complain and go stomping off to tell someone to turn the AC up properly—ironically enough starting off the dance on a high note—and things progress from there.

The entire school is in one of the hotel’s ballrooms for the dance. Probably the biggest room they have, if Chloe’s boasting is anything to go by. One of the few perks of her being so rich and bossy, with her parents owning such a high-class hotel, is that she can get it reserved for special events for their school.

Not that there are many other upsides to having Chloe Bourgeoise in your school _or_ homeroom class, but at least there _is_ one. Even just last year, Chloe didn’t even bother with using her wealth for the benefit of anyone else, or even being semi-tolerable at all.

Speaking of the devil, Chloe and Sabrina have migrated to the snack table. It looked like Chloe was judging the food selection, while Sabrina nodded along, watching her with puppy-like adoration.

The rest of their classmates were also scattered around, doing what-have-you. Sitting at one of the tables off to the side, Mylene and Ivan had their heads ducked together, so absorbed with each other they were in their own little world. Lila was off who-knows-where—probably finding a way to spike the punch—and it was a _little_ concerning that she wasn’t around where anyone could see her and keep tabs on her.

Somewhat nearby, the usual quartet of Alya, Nino, Marinette, and Adrien had brought Kagami into the mix. From the looks of it, Adrien and Kagami were being taught how to dance casually. Though it seemed to quickly devolve into Alya and Nino trying to walk their friends through the phenomena of twerking, while Marinette talked a mile a minute with her hands.

The fierce Kagami Tsurugi and the model Adrien Agreste being taught how to twerk… This was _not_ a sentence that Nathaniel had ever considered crossing his mind in his entire life, but here they were. In this strangely Cursed timeline.

He’s pretty sure the teachers currently chaperoning were in need of a drink that was _not_ soda or fruit punch.

Shaking his head wildly to rid himself of his lingering horrified curiosity—he didn’t know anything about Kagami, but he’s pretty sure Adrien learning how to dirty dance would kill everyone in a hundred yard vicinity, most _especially_ Marinette—Nathaniel kept his eyes peeled for one person in particular.

The ballroom was pretty large by all accounts. But Nathaniel’s become an expert at picking people from a crowd. He’s sort of had to, really. It’s become a valuable life skill of his, considering how stupidly short he still was, barely at five-three and hoping for a proper growth spurt some point soon.

He eventually finds Marc’s wild, black hair in the crowd, and nearly sags in relief. The other was dressed in all black, from what Nathaniel could see, with a cool-looking leather jacket. Marc looks like he was with a small group of his friends from Ms. Mendeleiev’s class, smiling and laughing along as he talked with them.

Nathaniel tries to beat back the sudden surge of jealousy at the sight. He takes a deep breath, and reminds himself that Marc had other friends, too. Not just Nathaniel.

He’ll probably join him later. That’s fine. It’s not like Marc has any obligation, anyways. It’s not like they’re _dating_ —

Nathaniel quickly turns his wandering attention back to his friends. Which was when things promptly and rapidly went downhill.

* * *

Nathaniel was perfectly minding his own damn business, just vibing with his friends. But when he looked over at Alix, and saw the mischievous gleam in her eye, he knew he was done for.

And he was right.

They were just chilling and doing that thing where they huddled in a group, sort-of-dancing, which was more like they were swaying and shuffling a bit while they all talked. And then Alix said something, quite loudly, about seeing who was the best dancer.  
  


“I bet I could out-dance everyone here,” she stated smugly.

Naturally, Kim was all for it, boasting and hooting about challenging Alix to a dance-off. “You’re on, Alix! I could dance circles around you…!”

It would’ve been fine, then, if it was just the two of them. But Rose and Juleka seemed invested, and Max was there claiming that he could dance as well, and then suddenly they were making a circle in the edge of the dance floor for their little bout of friendly competition.

Kim and Alix were both trying to outdo the other in breakdancing. Max shuffled in with a pretty sick iteration of the moonwalk, followed by the robot. Rose did some cutesy, well-choreographed dance that looked like it was from a K-pop music video. Nathaniel didn’t know enough about K-pop to tell from what video, or even _group_ , it could possibly be from.

Juleka just sort of headbanged and moshed like she was possessed, which was impressive in how terrifying it really was. She was wild enough that they all had to take an extra two steps back to give her the proper space and _not_ accidentally get punched in the face from her flailing limbs. Rose cheered her on, headbanging her head in solidarity with her girlfriend.

And then it was his turn. Eerily in-synch, the other five turned to look at him, staring him down expectantly.

“Nope,” Nathaniel states flatly, holding his hands in front of him in an ‘x’ shape, laughing nervously. “I’ll stay as, uh, the impartial judge—”

“C’mon, Nathaniel!” Rose squeals, bouncing in place, like a peppy little cheerleader.

“You can do it, dude!” Kim whoops, fist pumping.

“Guys, seriously, I can’t dance,” Nathaniel presses, feeling nervous sweat bead on his brow. “You’ve seen me. I invited you all to my own fucking _Bar Mitzvah_ —”

“Getcha ass on the floor, Nath,” Alix declares, pouncing at him to grab him by the shoulders. Before he could do anything to combat her, she was shoving him forwards into the impromptu circle, and he skidded on the slick tile. “Go white boy, go white boy, go!”

All he could do was stay stock-still in horror as the rest of his friends gleefully joined in on Alix’s chant, like the complete traitors they were.

“ _Alix_ ,” Nathaniel starts, feeling his face burn in equal parts anger and embarrassment. At his used-to-be-best-friend’s familiarly wide smirk, he huffs. Knowing it was no use to argue, and his fate was sealed, he angrily started flossing.

The rest of their answering cheers were mortifying, honestly. “ _I hate this fucking family_ ,” he states venomously, pitched loud enough to be heard above the DJ’s shitty pop music.

“Go white boy! Show us your moves!” Kim whoops through his laughter while the rest keep up their chants of ‘go white boy go’. Which is swiftly picking up steam, as some of the others in Bustier’s class noticed their little competition and have made their way over to join in the chant.

While he loves his class—really, he does—he also _really_ wishes he wasn’t stuck with their constant bullshit.

“Is that all you can do…?” Nino calls out as he laugh-wheezes against his girlfriend’s shoulder. Alya, meanwhile, is one of the loudest chanters; girl’s got an impressive set of lungs.

“I _literally_ only know how to do Fortnite dances,” Nathaniel replies loudly, long-suffering and scathing, as he switches to doing the Hype dance, but angrily. “What, you want me to start doing the Macarena next? ‘Cuz that’s all I got!”

It couldn’t get worse. Except it _does_. Specifically when he catches Marc sliding in next to Alix, watching bemusedly at his sorry excuse for dancing.

Nathaniel has all of two seconds to wish that he could melt through the floor, before Alix is manhandling Marc as well. With more strength than her build and height should allow, she manages to shove Marc—who’s easily a foot taller than her—into the middle of the circle. Marc skids across the floor, nearly toppling into Nathaniel, pinwheeling his arms. Nathaniel sucks in a sharp breath and holds it, but Marc manages to keep his balance.

“Um, is this what we’re doing now…?” Marc asks, sheepish and awkward, as he backs away slightly and starts to do the Hype dance with Nathaniel. In the background, Alix leads the chant to change into “ _Go white boys, go white boys, go_ ” to apparently be inclusive of Marc’s sudden entrance.

“I mean, this is what _I’m_ doing, since I don’t know how to dance,” Nathaniel sighs, giving a pained half-smile and half-grimace back at him. “Sorry that you got dragged into this.”

“O-Oh, n-not at all!” Marc refutes bashfully, slowing down his dancing. “I-I’m a pretty decent dancer, actually…? At least, Mama taught me some,” he adds modestly, before completely dropping his previous dance move.

Suddenly, Marc’s whole body posture changes into something looser, and he starts to step back and forth in a rhythm. His hips sway, his shoulders shake, and his arms move along in mesmerizing patterns as he steps along.

He manages to look somehow flawless and natural, despite the strangely out-of-character transition. Nathaniel can’t even name what type of dancing it is—salsa? It’s [definitely Latin-inspired](https://youtu.be/3UzbhuSl5OE?t=40), he thinks—but Marc looks wholly confident in himself and in his body.

It’s a first. And it’s. _Incredibly_ attractive, actually. Especially paired with that all-black ensemble and slick leather jacket.

The rest of the class goes fucking _nuts_. “ _Damn_ , son…!” “Go Marc!” “ _Get it, boy!_ ”

Nathaniel hears at least two different wolf-whistles, and slowly starts to back away from the cleared space to let Marc do his thing. His apparently very talented, very _sexy_ thing.

Nathaniel accidentally backs into Rose and Juleka in his haste to abscond from further spotlight-slash-humiliation. He’s just barely gotten out a muttered apology, before he feels both their hands on his shoulders. He takes a moment to look behind him in horror—watching the girlfriends give him matching knowing looks— before he’s being shoved back into the circle.

Nathaniel, who barely scrapes by at a hundred pounds soaking wet, can’t stop his body from being launched forwards. Nor can he stop his clumsy feet from tripping over themselves.

Marc, thankfully enough, seems to have enough reflexes to catch him. Nathaniel barely avoids breaking his nose against the other’s collarbone, as Marc’s leather-clad arms wrap around him, stopping completely in place, and _oh_.

Oh _no_.

He knows he’s talked to Alix before about—wait, _Alix_ —damnit _—_ he’s going to _kill_ her—and when did Rose and Juleka—did Al put them up to this—

Nathaniel feels his cheeks burn as he hears Alix wildly scream, “DIP HIM!”

The chant morphs into “ _Dip him! Dip him! Dip him!_ ” without any more input, and Nathaniel feels like he’s going to die. This is it. He’s dead. He’s going to Ascend. Someone tell his parents and sister that he loves them, because he’s _not_ going to come back from this alive.

Nathaniel tries to push himself off Marc’s chest, and he’s able to, but he can’t get far. Marc is holding onto his arm. Nathaniel snaps his gaze up to meet Marc’s—blue eyes meeting green— despite his mind screaming at him that it’s a bad idea.

Marc’s entirely pink in the face, and there’s a nervous smile on his lips. His lipstick is dark burgundy today, with a dramatic winged eyeliner to match. He looks gorgeous, his lips very much kissable.

Marc slides his hand down Nathaniel’s arm, purposeful, gripping his suddenly clammy hand. The other boy looks half apologetic and half something else—excited, maybe? But why would he be excited?—and then [Nathaniel’s being spun around](https://youtu.be/H7AyCy3BXYo?t=138) the little piece of cleared dance floor.

Nathaniel spins, hand clutching knuckle-white against Marc’s. When he stops, his back hits what he’s sure is Marc’s front. The other’s still holding onto his hand, but his arm is wrapped diagonally around Nathaniel, pressing Nathaniel’s body against the long line of his torso. He feels Marc’s breath ghost across the shell of his ear.

He keeps down a shiver at the slew of new feelings across his body, but only just. Another wolf-whistle rents the air, and he doesn’t have enough time to react more to the compromising position before he’s being spun out again.

It’s dizzying. Not because the spinning is particularly fast or anything. It’s more to do with the fact that Marc is a fantastic dancer and is dancing with _him_ , of all people. It feels like some sort of warped dream, a bit unreal.

Then Nathaniel is brought close, nearly toe-to-toe with Marc. His breath catches, and his face burns like a furnace. This is _definitely_ real. There’s absolutely no way it isn’t, because the hand in his is grounding, and there’s this _look_ on the other’s face that he’s never even seen before, too new and original for his mind to ever come up with.

He’s pretty sure he can tell apart every single shade of green in those soulful eyes, before Marc’s spinning him out once more. After that, he brings Nathaniel in close, firmly grabbing onto his waist and [dipping him low](https://youtu.be/3UzbhuSl5OE?t=414). The motion manages to dislodge the shield of Nathaniel’s bangs away from his flushed face, both eyes uncovered to stare into the other’s emerald eyes.

There’s a roar in his ears. It’s probably his friends screaming and losing their complete and utter shit. But it also feels like it’s his heart exploding and his chest’s rupturing into a swarm of butterflies.

No doubt, a thousand pictures are being taken of them. No doubt, Nathaniel’s face is as red as his hair. And no doubt, he probably looks like a wide-eyed, gaping, lovestruck fool.

But Marc is leaning in close, face pink, a satisfied gleam in his emerald eyes. His hair somehow looks wilder than it normally does, a dark halo about his head. His lips are formed into a wide and pleased grin, with a flash of white teeth that makes the redhead’s heart skip. His hands are warm and strong on Nathaniel’s skin, felt even through his dress shirt.

Faster than expected, Nathaniel’s being brought out of the dip. He’s so light-headed and weak-kneed, he all but clings onto Marc’s arms. They’re both panting like they’ve just run a marathon. They also haven’t stopped keeping direct eye contact, faces maybe a foot apart.

“Get a room!” someone yells. Nathaniel whips his head over to glare at the owner of the familiarly offending voice.

Chloe smirks back at him, arm propped up on Sabrina’s shoulder, who’s giggling up a storm. Surprisingly enough, instead of being mocking, the blonde’s comment almost sounded…joking?

It’s confirmed when the rest of the gathered class start to laugh. Some—Rose and Mylene and Marinette—are squealing-slash-cooing. Adrien and Kagami are clapping, and so’s Alix. Though she’s got a smug-looking shit-eating grin on her face while she slow-claps, versus Adrien’s awed and enthusiastic clapping, and Kagami’s impressed look paired with polite golf-clap.

Nathaniel decides then and there that a retreat is necessary if he wants to survive from dying via mortification.

So that’s when he ducks his head and speed-walks away, pushing past Alix, who slides aside to let him go.

* * *

Nathaniel’s just about halfway across the dancefloor before he realizes that he’s dragging along Marc, their hands connected.

He doesn’t even _remember_ grabbing Marc’s hand. Or had they not let go at all in the first place…?

He low-key feels like he’s going insane, his life spiraling so very quickly out of his control.

He pauses, looking over at Marc through his bangs, feeling supremely nervous and self-conscious. The other boy stops next to him, looking at the redhead in a way that’s somehow both soft and intense at once. The dramatic make-up makes him look strong and fierce, contrasting with his soft jaw and button nose. His emerald eyes are magnetic either way.

“D-do you, um…Do you want to get some fresh air?” Marc offers, after a few seconds of their little staring competition.

“Y-Yeah,” Nathaniel manages to choke out past his suddenly bone-dry throat.

Marc gently squeezes Nathaniel’s hand; the redhead startles a bit, realizing he’s never let go, even now.

He hesitates, not wanting to part their hands. Marc acts in those seconds of hesitation, using their continued connection to gently tug him to the nearest exit.

Nathaniel follows willingly, face warm, hoping Marc can’t tell how badly his hands are sweating right now. He self-consciously wipes his unoccupied hand against his pants leg.

* * *

The two exit out of the ballroom, heading down the connected hallway, hands still interlinked. There’s a set of bathrooms not far from the ballroom, and Nathaniel slows, but Marc simply tugs at his hand to keep going.

Biting his lip, Nathaniel picks up his pace again, following Marc down the long hall and around the corner.

Once they’re out of eyeshot from the ballroom where the dance is held, Marc stops and turns around. His face is pink as he looks back at the redhead, gaze darting from his face down to their intertwined hands. He drops Nathaniel’s hand with a jolt, like he’s been burned, eyes wide.

Nathaniel takes his hand back, shoving it straight into his slack’s pockets, trying to subtly rub the sweat away. “So…” he trails off, feeling supremely awkward. He realizes he’s hunching his shoulders, and forces himself to stop stooping and straighten his posture a bit.

Marc bites his lip. Nathaniel’s eyes instantly track the motion, riveted by how stark the white of his teeth is against the dark burgundy color. “S-So...”

The two fall into a silence thick with awkward tension. Nathaniel curses himself internally for being so terrible with social interaction. Why did he have to be such an anxious introvert…!

“Th-that was, um…Fun,” Nathaniel manages to get out, his unoccupied hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “The dancing,” he clarifies lamely, at Marc’s wide, blank stare. “I-It was—you’re a, um. A good dancer…”

_Fuck_ , he sounds so painfully awkward…It’s mortifying how bad he is at this. Talking to his crush. His crush, who is sweet and kind, and incredibly talented, and unfairly hot. His crush, who just romantically danced with him not even ten minutes ago.

But Marc smiles back at him, a small and shy and crooked thing. “Th-thanks…I…I really l-liked dancing with you.”

Nathaniel takes in a sharp breath at the admission, watching as Marc ducks his head and looks up at him through his thick, dark lashes.

“W-Well, it can’t be from any talent on _my_ end,” Nathaniel notes jokingly, finding his courage come back to him in bits and pieces. “You were, uh, p-pretty much the one doing all the work there…”

Marc giggles, the sound breathy, causing his heart to trip in his chest. “Y-You still followed along r-really well, you know…Y-You shouldn’t put yourself down like that.”

The redhead shrugs, shoving both his hands in his pockets to keep them from fidgeting, like the nervous mess he was. “Listen, I-I’m bad at dancing, and that’s just the truth. I only know Fortnite dances, and even _that’s_ doable.”

Marc bites his lip again, smiling. He holds out a hand towards Nath, palm-up. “I-If you want…I can, um. I can teach you? T-To dance, I mean,” the other offers shyly, cheeks flushing with a dark pink blush.

All Nathaniel can do is stare.

Marc looks adorable. Even decked out in ripped black skinny jeans, a charcoal-dark shirt, leather jacket, and black combat boots, with dark lipstick and dramatically winged eyeliner. His wardrobe and style contrast with the shy and hopeful way he acts and speaks, yet seem to fit him perfectly all the same.

He looks _soft_ , almost, and painfully earnest.

The seconds stretch, as the redhead stands frozen, taking in every detail of the moment with a frantic, wild hunger.

He must take too long to respond—no, he _definitely_ does—because Marc’s expression slowly morphs from hopeful to embarrassed resignation. The other starts to pull back his hand—

And finally snapping out of his reverie, Nathaniel reaches out, quickly taking Marc’s hand in his. “I’d love to!” he all but yells in his crush’s face. Then promptly snaps his mouth shut, face burning in mortification.

Marc doesn’t seem to care, however. He blinks back at Nathaniel, wide-eyed and startled, before a sweet smile unfurls across his face. The force of it makes his emerald eyes crinkle, teeth gleaming behind his burgundy lipstick.

“A-Alright…” the other replies softly, still beaming like he was sunshine incarnate. “D-do you want to stay here, or go back to the ballroom…?”

Nathaniel tightens his grip on Marc’s hand, as the face of a very smug-looking Alix flashes in his mind’s eye. “I…C-Can we stay here…? I-I sort of don’t want people laughing at me for not being able to dance…”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t,” Marc says soothingly, stepping closer towards Nathaniel. The redhead’s breath catches. “But, um, w-we can still stay here.”

With telegraphed movements, the other slowly shifts ever closer, a hand up and grabbing at the redhead’s waist, settling them into a traditional dancing stance.

Nathaniel blinks back at him. “O-Oh! So. Right now.”

“If you’d like…?” Marc trails off. He smiles, a flash of teeth. It’s small and crooked, and very obviously nervous.

Maybe it’s not just Nathaniel’s hand that’s clammy, either. Hell, the realization dawns on him that despite being more experienced in dancing, Marc’s just as flustered and nervous about this as he is.

It calms something in him—the part of Nathaniel that’s full of doubt and loudly tells him that he’s not good enough. He squeezes Marc’s hand, and slowly sets his other hand on his crush’s shoulder.

“Right. L-Like this?” he asks, even though he doesn’t need the clarification. The redhead can literally _feel_ the other relax under his touch, the stiff line of Marc’s shoulders softening under his hand.

“Perfect,” Marc nods with a small smile. “We’ll start with a simple two-step, okay? Just step forwards for a beat, and then step back.”

Nathaniel ducks his head, cheeks warm. He doesn’t say that he was taught the basic two-step by his parents for his Bar Mitzvah. Not that that would really help him, in this instance. He doesn’t exactly have much rhythm or grace to begin with. Not to mention, his nerves are through the roof, being so close to his crush as he is.

He watches his feet intently, watching as he stumbles and accidentally steps on Marc’s toes. “S-Sorry!” he squeaks out, snapping his gaze back up to look at the other’s reaction.

Instead of being angry, his crush giggles.

“You’re fine. I couldn’t even feel that with my boots,” Marc says, smile widening and turning crooked in his mouth. “Combat boots are _very_ sturdy. My toes can weather whatever you throw at me.”

“W-well, that’s a relief,” Nathaniel manages to sputter out, ducking his head once more. But he finds himself smiling as well.

* * *

“ _So tell me,_

_Why we’re talking,_

_When we dance so good?_ ”

* * *

It’s strange, dancing in this way, Nathaniel soon finds.

Doing a slow dance, in the middle of a hotel hallway, away from everyone and everything, with nothing but the faint noise of the pop music from the ballroom drifting faintly to their ears. They aren’t even dancing to the music—or really, any music at all—just stepping and swaying as Marc faintly chants ‘one-two-one-two’ and murmurs praises and assurances depending on if Nathaniel manages to keep rhythm or accidentally steps on him.

Nathaniel hadn’t thought that things would turn out this way, really. Hadn’t thought he’d go with his friends to the end-of-year dance, only to ditch them completely to go dance with his crush in an empty hallway out of the main venue.

But he’s not exactly finding himself complaining, though.

Not when he’s so close to Marc, literally toe-to-toe. Not when his sweaty hand is grasped with Marc’s own equally sweaty hand. Not when Marc’s got a hand on his waist, a gentle guide in their little two-step, and he can almost feel the heat of it through the layers of his clothes. Not when he has a hand on Marc’s shoulder, slowly fingering the cool material and studs of Marc’s leather jacket.

Not when he looks up at Marc, blue eyes meeting green, their faces less than a foot apart. Not when his gaze takes in the length of Marc’s eyelashes, and the sharpness of the winged eyeliner, and the pink of Marc’s cheeks, and the way the other’s lips are slightly parted.

Not when Marc looks back at him with an incredible amount of soft fondness that takes his breath away.

Nathaniel finds himself gulping, loud and obvious, as his gaze zeroes in on Marc’s mouth. The other bites his lip, again, the burgundy lipstick smudging with the motion.

He really, _really_ wants to kiss Marc right now. But despite everything—the dancing, the smiles, the hand holding, the fact that they’re alone—a part of him is still unsure. Unsure if it actually means anything. Unsure if he’s been reading all the signs wrong. Unsure if someone as _amazing_ as Marc could ever like someone like _him_ back—someone so insecure and clumsy and just plain _angry_ too much of the time.

After all, just because Marc’s gay doesn’t guarantee he’d like Nathaniel back… Maybe Marc’s just too nice to turn him down, or something…

Or maybe he’s just looking too deeply into things, letting his doubts eat him up, like he always does. Either way, Nathaniel can’t stop staring at Marc’s plump lips, feeling the incredibly strong urge to kiss them.

When he looks back up to lock eyes with his crush self-consciously, it’s to see Marc staring back at him with an intensity that Nathaniel’s never seen from him before.

After a few seconds, Marc’s burning emerald gaze very obviously trails down to his lips, before slowly meeting his eyes again.

Nathaniel’s mouth goes bone-dry once more, his breath leaving him in a wheeze as Marc’s hold on his waist tightens, and he tilts his head even closer.

“C-can I…” the other trails off, eyes darting back down towards Nathaniel’s lips.

“K-Kiss me?” Nathaniel asks breathlessly, watching Marc nod his head with a deeply flustered look on his face, cheeks turning from pink to red. “Yeah.”

Nathaniel lets his eyes flutter close in anticipation, gripping Marc’s shoulder nervously, a shiver working down his spine.

The last time he was kissed on the mouth, it was from Alix, oddly enough, back when they were twelve. She’d wanted them to “get their first kisses over with”. Nathaniel, knowing he’d probably need all the experience he could get, had agreed to it. Naturally, it’d been a fucking disaster, because half of Alix’s plans were. They’d almost smashed their nose togethers the first attempt, missed on the second, then banged their teeth together painfully when they managed to connect their mouths.

So, Nathaniel doesn’t exactly have much fond experience with kissing. And he’s never been kissed by a boy before. He’s not sure if it’s supposed to be any different, other than the fact that Marc has very nice lips for a boy.

After waiting for what feels like an eternity, Marc’s lips connect gently, tentatively, against his mouth. It’s a quick thing, too. Nathaniel barely even realizes he’s been kissed until he opens his eyes, and sees Marc, red-faced and shyly keeping his gaze on his shoes.

It was a nice kiss, though. A sweet one.

“I-I think we might need more practice,” Nathaniel blurts out. The other quickly snaps his gaze up, eyes blown wide.

“H-Huh?” Marc squeaks, voice jumping an octave.

“P-Practice,” the redhead reiterates, squeezing his hand in Marc’s, gaze skittering away. “W-with, um. D-dancing. And…And k-kissing.” He snaps his gaze back to his crush with a blustered, “O-Only if you want, though!”

Marc gapes back at him like a fish. His red face clashes horribly against his dark lipstick. It’s unfairly adorable. _He’s_ unfairly adorable.

“Like…L-Like, um…” the other trails off, ducking his head and looking up at Nathaniel through his lashes. “H-How so…?”

Nathaniel blinks back at his crush, taken aback by the vagueness of the question. “I—W-Well, I mean. Like. Like in a—a dating way…?” he asks weakly, feeling dumb for asking something obvious as this.

“…Y-you actually w-want to d-d-date me?” Marc asks in a strangled voice. His ears, as well as his neck, are now firmly red as well, matching his beet-red face.

Nathaniel can’t help but goggle back at him. “Are you kidding me?” he demands, absolutely floored. “O-Of _course_ I do…! Marc, I’ve had a crush on you for a solid _three_ months now, at _least_ —"

He snaps his mouth shut, face burning, realizing he’s just confessed. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, he just _did_ that—

“I-I—I like you t-too!”

If Nathaniel had a mirror, he’s pretty sure he’d be just as red as Marc is right now.

“I-I’ve had a c-crush on you for—f-for a…while,” the other says weakly. “M-Months, really…”

“Oh,” Nathaniel says weakly, feeling lightheaded. He clutches onto the other's shoulder just in case, to keep his balance.

“D-Do you, um…” Marc trails off, before taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. He looks Nathaniel straight in the eye, and asks, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“I—Y-yeah,” Nathaniel finds himself nodding, smilingly shyly back at the other boy. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Marc’s expression shifts. Like watching a flower in bloom, a wide smile unfurls on his face. “C-Cool.” His hand tightens around Nathaniel’s, like a promise.

The redhead can’t fight the smile spreading on his own face. “Cool.”

It feels like a hundred emotions are fighting for dominance in him, right now. Elation, shock, relief, pride, giddiness, disbelief. It all mixes inside him like a potent cocktail.

Overwhelmingly fond, he leans forwards, burying his face in his new boyfriend’s shoulder. He has a _boyfriend_. _Marc_ is his boyfriend. _Marc’s_ his _boyfriend_.

He feels Marc’s hand tighten on his waist. “Are…Are you okay…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just—” Nathaniel laughs, a light and joyful thing that bubbles from his lips, alongside the confession of, “I-I wanted to ask you out this dance, actually. But I was too chicken-shit. And it’s just—it’s ironic, is all.”

The redhead feels it, as Marc shifts, burying his face against Nathaniel’s own shoulder. “I-I w-wanted to ask you to the dance t-too, actually,” the other gives his own confession. “B-But I didn’t think…think you’d accept.”

Nathaniel snorts, finding himself falling into a cackling fit. “Seriously…? No fucking way!” he crows, tears budding in his eyes and he laughs like a loon against his now-boyfriend’s shoulder.

“It’s true!” Marc splutters through his own giggles, before he starts to wheeze against Nathaniel.

The two clutch at each other, supporting the other’s weight as they laughed uproariously at the irony of the situation.

* * *

It takes the two a good ten minutes to calm down. Mostly because they kept trying to disentangle from each other while wheezing out another snippet about their near-confession, before they both found it too hilarious and started to crack up again.

When they finally calm down and part, Marc’s eyeliner has gone wonky and his mascara has started to run. Nathaniel snorts, biting his lip and trying very hard not to laugh.

Marc’s eyes go wide, as he stares down at Nathaniel’s sports jacket in horror. “O-Oh my God, I got my makeup all over your jacket!” he squeaks, pawing at the material. “I am _so_ sorry, Nath—”

“S’fine,” the redhead waves off, a goofy smile stretched across his cheeks. He was smiling so hard, his cheeks felt like they were glued in place. “I mean, you’re my boyfriend.” A pause, as he savors the words. He giggles. “I-I think this is part of your, um, boyfriend rights…?”

“I-I have boyfriend rights to ruin your c-clothes?” Marc asks, frowning, looking like a lost puppy.

Nathaniel bites his tongue so he won’t blurt a joke about how he’d be happy if Marc used his boyfriend rights to ruin all his clothes, in more ways than one. He’s just had a boyfriend for _fifteen minutes_ , and he’s _not_ going to let his mind do a straight dive into the gutter so soon. “It’s worth it,” he says instead, with a shrug. “I can just wash it.”

The other still flutters his hands around the redhead’s jacket. “I-If you’re sure? But, um, c-could I…Go and see the damage…?

“Yeah, if you wanna go and fix your makeup, you can do that,” Nathaniel assures his boyfriend. “I mean, I don’t really know much about that stuff, but even _I_ know running mascara isn’t good.”

Marc lets out a long groan, fingers up to gently press against his eyelashes. “Crap, I should’ve warn the waterproof kind. Didn’t think I’d need it…” he mumbles out with a little pout.

Nathaniel can’t help it. His boyfriend looks so cute and put-out, he deserves a kiss. So Nathaniel places a hand on Marc’s arm, raises on his tiptoes, and carefully presses a kiss against the edge of the other’s lips.

When he pulls back, Marc stares back at him, stunned. Nathaniel ducks his head, his face going warm. “S-Sorry, I…I probably should’ve asked…”

“I-It’s fine,” he hears the other choke out. Looking up through his lashes, he watches as Marc’s cheeks go pink.

“I’ve…Never had a boyfriend before,” the redhead admits, in way of explanation. “O-Or really dated much in g-general, so…”

Honestly, aside from two dates—one of them with Marinette when he was an Akuma and couldn’t even remember it—Nathaniel hasn’t had much luck in the romance department. Even if he wasn’t now dating a boy, this was all still new territory for him.

“I’ve been on a few dates before, but…They never got t-too far,” Marc says, grabbing onto his hand and squeezing. “A-And that’s if I was lucky enough for them t-to agree to a date at all, so…”

Nathaniel frowns back at him, feeling indignant. “Wait—what the hell? But—but you’re so _sweet_! Who the hell _wouldn’t_ wanna date you?”

Marc snorts, just a bit dry and he answers with, “Oh, you’d be surprised…” His face shutters as he mutters out, “There was some kiss-and-running, that’s for sure…”

“What the fuck?” the redhead finds himself snapping, indignant fury rising within him. “People just—they just kissed you and didn’t even bother to date you first?!”

Marc stares back at him. Not blankly, because that would imply that he wasn’t feeling any emotion. No, Marc stared back at him with the look of someone who still feels deeply hurt, even if the wound was an old one.

“I—sorry. Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I-I’m just ruining the night…” the other says, voice small, eyes downcast.

“Marc,” Nathaniel starts, grabbing both of the boy’s hands in his. “Hey. Please look at me?”

Like it almost pained him to, the other raised his gaze back up to Nathaniel’s, hesitant and clearly waiting for judgement.

“It’s not your fault that people are assholes and used you. That they didn’t treat you with the respect you deserve,” the redhead states firmly. “I mean, I know I’ve got my own issues too, but… I can promise you that I’m not using you as some sort of—of experiment. I’m not gonna half-ass this, either. Okay…?”

A small, watery smile works its way on Marc’s face. It both breaks his heart, and makes the resolve in him settle.

“Okay,” Marc whispers. He grips Nathaniel’s hands tightly. “C-Can I hug you?”

“Yeah.”

Marc does so. It’s tight and warm. Like being wrapped in a blanket.

When Marc parts from him, his smile is just a bit more natural on his face. “L-Lemme go and fix my makeup, then we can go back to the dance…I’m sure p-people are wondering where we went.”

Nathaniel sighs, sagging slightly. “Ugh, yeah. Alix is gonna be _insufferable_ when she sees us.” He gives a half-grimace, half-sheepish smile. “She’s been telling me the entire time to just ask you out, swearing that you liked me back, but I was too stubborn to listen.”

“Really…?” Marc asks, sounding mystified. He giggles, the sound light and filling up Nathaniel’s chest with butterflies. “Oh, gosh. Marinette’s been doing the same thing f-for me, actually.”

“No shit? Wow.” Nathaniel groans, letting go of Marc’s hands to clap them on his cheeks. They feel hot with a blush beneath his touch. “Stars above, we’re both such _disasters_ …! If we’d just _listened_ , we would’ve been going out way sooner!”

His boyfriend just giggles louder, prying away his hands away from his face with a startling amount of gentleness. “It’s fine. W-We’re together now, aren’t we?” the other says softly, with a just-as-soft smile to go with it.

Nathaniel smiles back at Marc, feeling light, and oh-so-full of fondness. “I…yeah. You’re right.”

* * *

When the two return to the ballroom, hand-in-hand and unable to keep the goofy grins off their faces, Alix is the first to notice them.

She gives a loud, exasperated “Fucking _finally_! I _swear_ , the two of you are such oblivious disasters!” But she’s smirking as she says it, wide and pleased, and obviously happy for them.

She then promptly ruins the moment by demanding Alya ‘pay up’, having apparently bet that she was a better matchmaker than the blogger, of which Nathaniel and Marc getting together fulfilled. Nathaniel nearly jumps his best friend to throttle her, feeling mortified and just plain super fucking pissed that Alix decided to make a bet about him _again_. His boyfriend holds him back, but only just.

Alix cackles, as the rest of his classmates come over them to shower the new couple with congratulations.

Marinette sidles up to them, giving Marc a bright and excited, “See, I told you Marc…! Congrats, you two!”

His friends’ genuine joy for him is what finally calms Nathaniel down. Or at least, it makes the shyness and embarrassment at the forefront of his emotions.

Marc planting a quick peck on his cheek may have also helped with that, though.

* * *

It’s past midnight by the time Nathaniel gets back home from the school dance.

With fumbling fingers, he strips himself of his clothes, throwing them on the chair by his desk, before promptly face-planting onto his bed. He has just enough energy to fish out his phone, blinking blearily at the bright screen.

_Marc <3333_

_12:43_

Goodnight!!

Love you

<3

_12:45_

gn

love u 2

<3

Nathaniel finds himself smiling, drifting off to sleep, phone still clutched in his hand.

He dreams of a hand in his, emerald eyes, and a sweet press of lips against his own.

He dreams of his boyfriend.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Marc knows various Latino dances from one of his Moms, including cumbia, bachata, merengue, and salsa.
> 
> Cumbia Dance that Marc does at the start: https://youtu.be/3UzbhuSl5OE?t=40  
> Bachata Dance with Marc and Nath: https://youtu.be/H7AyCy3BXYo?t=138  
> The Dip TM: https://youtu.be/3UzbhuSl5OE?t=414
> 
> Nathaniel: Haha, yeah, so I have these super strong feelings popping up about Marc??? But it’s fine, it’s just a little crush, I can handle it—  
> Marc: [starts to dance]  
> Nathaniel: Wow that’s kinda hot haha—  
> Marc: [starts dancing with Nathaniel, dips him, is totally romantic]  
> Nathaniel: WOW, I’M SO BI
> 
> Anyways, kudos bookmark and comment if you like anything here! This fic is just headcanons galore, and it was super fun to write!
> 
> Edit:  
> A soft sequel to this fic is 'put it all on me', a fic that looks at the boys six months later.  
> The link is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510688


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